


Stupid, Beautiful

by Languidly



Series: Enigma of You [2]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:21:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26875093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Languidly/pseuds/Languidly
Summary: If Soundwave refused to see reason on his own, Starscream would not be blamed for whatever it took to guarantee his safety. As was, er, the natural concern of a strategically-superior ranking officer towards a presumptuous, insolent subordinate who repeatedly defied orders to stay back and stand down.
Relationships: Soundwave/Starscream (Transformers)
Series: Enigma of You [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1960678
Comments: 8
Kudos: 177





	Stupid, Beautiful

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sidefic I've had in mind since I wrote ['Enigma of You'](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26140372), and the events occur pretty much parallel to what happens in that story. If you haven't read it, all the premise you need to know is that the Autobots and Decepticons forged an alliance in the face of Quintesson invasion, and Megatron and Optimus gained the ability to combine.

Although Megatron and Optimus’ new combiner form was as laughable as it was unfairly, ludicrously powerful, they were still - amazingly - not the most ridiculous thing on the battlefield. No, Starscream decided. That honor continued to belong to Soundwave.

:: Get back to the base, Soundwave! :: he screeched over comms, ducking just in time as a large beast snapped its jagged metal jaws down with a deafening clang on the space he’d been hovering in just a nanoklik ago. :: You’re coordinating slag-all from here! :: 

Soundwave gave no visible sign that he’d heard Starscream, other than rigidly straightening his frame and then purposefully turning away to another section of the battlefield. His cassettes scattered from his dock, weaving under the gigantic stomping pedes of the Quintesson mechanimals. On his own, Soundwave continued to level his blaster, firing off shots with pinpoint accuracy into weak chinks of beast armor and charging up sonic blasts from his speakers as blithely as though he was not currently fighting enemies who were several times larger and many times faster.

Fragging stubborn tape deck.

Starscream let loose with his null rays, twisting agilely past the side of a lumbering brute and engaging his thrusters at full capacity before dropping into a fast spin. He tumbled out of the barrel roll straight into the face of another snarling, snapping beast, bringing one pede down with forceful momentum. The impact smashed its head in with a tinkling crack of metal plates, and Starscream was already darting off before it hit the ground. It was difficult not to gloat at how easily he was taking the Quintesson pets down, knowing how free and daring his aerial manoeuvres must be appearing to all the trapped grounders below.

Now, if only there was an end to the steady torrent of the enemy. They just wouldn’t stop _coming_.

Out of the corner of an optic, he saw Megatron and Optimus heading towards the portal that was bridging the beasts to the battlefield. They slammed into the creatures left and right, their sheer combined mass and brute strength a stunning sight to behold. The absurdly large cannon sitting on the combiner’s right arm was nearing a full charge; even from this distance, visible energy crackled across it. Well, it was about time the self-appointed leaders of this desperate alliance did something useful. Starscream scowled as he fired another round of the null rays point-blank between a raging beast’s optics. It howled, clawing at the air as it went down.

Then he heard the transmission, staticked and choppy as if threatening to cut off any second.

:: _All hail Megatron._ :: 

Starscream’s spark sputtered in his chest. He whirled about, scanning the ground wildly, but the creatures were rampaging and tossing mechs this way and that and everything was obscuring a clear view of the-

There. That was Soundwave’s rude cat, leaping up onto the side of an enormous roaring beast and sinking its claws into the flexible metal of its neck, twisting it away from the dark blue frame crumpled underneath.

Starscream was accelerating towards the ground before he even realized it, livid. His internals felt like they were curling extremely unpleasantly into his core, but he dismissed the odd sensation and dove for the prone mech who lay half-crushed and dangerously close to the beast flailing above. The next time the Quintessons attacked, Starscream was going to _order_ Soundwave to stay back in the base, _tie him up_ if necessary and _make_ the foolish mech understand that his communications equipment was designed for a support role rather than a frontline one. If Soundwave refused to see reason on his own, Starscream would not be blamed for whatever it took to guarantee his safety. As was, er, the natural concern of a strategically-superior ranking officer towards a presumptuous, insolent subordinate who repeatedly defied orders to stay back and stand down. And who also happened to be critically instrumental in whatever the Decepticon army would choose to do after this farce of an entente with the Autobots was over. He couldn’t help gritting his dentae again.

Fragging stubborn tape deck!

There was a thin, rising whine from behind them just as Starscream gently hooked his claws into the painful-looking creases of Soundwave’s pulverized armor, lifting the dazed third-in-command and fitting him securely against his cockpit. He took off, just as the blinding explosion from the downed space-bridge hit and a burning roiling wave of light, heat and debris swelled and burst against his back and wings. 

***

If anyone had asked, Starscream was most definitely not stalking the pathetic excuse of a medbay that had been set-up in this equally pathetic joint Autobot-Decepticon base. If anyone had asked, Starscream might also have ripped their throat out for their nerve as he restlessly paced the next corridor over, scorched wings fluttering. He had tried to look in thrice already, but each time, Soundwave’s damnable cat was still there, flicking its tail as it lay bodily over the indisposed mech like a living guardian blanket. One time, the detestably grumpy Autobot medic had been there as well, plugging in diagnostic cables with a grim look on his faceplates that had done nothing for the unpleasant sensation lingering in Starscream’s internals.

On the next pass he made though, he heard a low murmur of voices, and all the tension that had been coiling in his backstrut suddenly made itself known as he straightened so quickly that his frame twanged. Was Soundwave awake? Starscream stopped just out of sight and listened for a while more, but couldn’t make out who was actually speaking or what they were saying. Impatience won out. There was nothing wrong with him being here, checking on the state of a pitiful underling who had barely managed to avoid being turned to scrap. Decision made, he stepped back into the main corridor, just to see the tip of Ravage’s black tail disappear around the corner. Probably en route to report to Megatron, who was also stuck in another medbay down the hall. _Finally_ , thank the Slagmaker. 

Without further ado, Starscream scurried into the room, mouth already open to bark a mocking chastisement. Soundwave deserved at least this much injury for declining to take Starscream’s brilliant advice yet again. 

Except his optics made the grievous mistake of falling upon the multitude of medical lines streaming from various dispensers into Soundwave’s frame, and the scathing words he’d meant to say died in his vocalizer. His spark did a disagreeable somersault, and his wings flattened to his back before he could stop them, rubbing uncomfortably where they’d been singed. He stood there, frozen, distractedly scanning the frame in front of him from top to pede, noting where the crushed plating had been straightened out and the mismatch where panels had to have been entirely replaced.

The illumination in the red visor was dim, but Starscream was aware of the weak, understanding gaze somehow directed unerringly at him. 

“Soundwave: will be fine,” came the soft, damage-hoarse reassurance after an interminable amount of time. “Starscream: has thanks for transporting back to base.” Hesitantly and slowly, a dark blue hand lifted, turning palm up towards Starscream as if reaching for him.

Starscream cursed, blatted out something unintelligible, and fled the medbay. 

***

One of Soundwave’s minibots - Starscream could never remember which was Frenzy and which was Rumble - showed up at his quarters later that night with a displeased expression, holding up a small jar of salve. “Boss says it’s for your wings,” was all that was said in a clipped grumble.

When Starscream’s twitching fingers did not reach out for the jar after several kliks, the minibot heaved an exasperated sigh and put the salve on the ground, sliding it carefully past the threshold. Then he looked up to stare critically at Starscream again. “If you’re playing him, Screamer- ”

Starscream slammed the door before the atrocious suggestion could be completed, ignoring the outraged squawks of the minibot on the other side.

***

They were in yet another awful meeting, sitting across from the Autobots who were droning on and on about the truly dismal topic of energon rationing, when Starscream’s sensornet prickled. He extended it automatically in all directions, optics flaring as he registered... _something_ , and then the blast - fiery and blistering - was slamming down from above with a deafening roar, too fast for him or anyone to escape it. In the nanokliks between, he turned on instinct and threw himself over Soundwave, the communication specialist’s startlement abruptly vanishing as Soundwave’s own systems comprehended the threat with overwhelming sensory reception and fritzed into a crash. He could feel Soundwave’s frame jerking under him as his own reinforced armor protested. Drastic overheating warnings flashed in frantic repetition on his HUD; he thought he might have been screaming if there had been any power left in his circuitry. Smoke wafted up from his frame, from all around them, and all of his hydraulics had gone out for the count. He was burning both from the outside and within, and he literally couldn’t lift a finger.

Distantly, Starscream registered movement around him. There was a flicker of a vast, vast EM field unfolding, which probably meant that Megatron and Optimus had combined. It was hard to tell anything for sure, really, especially when he couldn’t move his head and his visual feed was degenerating into scratchy lines. 

:: Soundwave? :: he tried yelling, and agony ripped up his spinal strut. The overheating warnings had redlined into an imminent shutdown status, his fuel and coolant lines all but ruptured, bleeding him out. Wonderful. Instead of fulfilling his grand ambition of usurping Megatron and taking over the Decepticons, he was going to die here in a smoking ruin, smelted down and alone.

Well. Not alone. 

At least Soundwave was here. Even if he was probably dying or dead as well. The nerve of him.

His hands had locked onto Soundwave’s shoulders at some point, and now he couldn’t unclamp them. His entire frame was starting to judder and he could feel the onset of stasis kicking in, a creeping darkness at the edges of his awareness. Dimly, he scraped trembling claws across the too-warm armor beneath him. 

_You aft_ , he tried to sign. _You stupid, beautiful thing._

And then the darkness swamped everything.

***

When his visual feed started coming back online in black-spotted bursts, it took an embarrassingly long breem - or perhaps two, or three - for Starscream to realize he was looking up at the eviscerated ceiling of the medbay. 

His first visceral reaction was affronted horror - now it wasn’t just Megatron and Soundwave, but even Starscream himself was taking a turn to occupy this dreadful room? It was an unforgivably disgraceful show of weakness from Decepticon High Command. He would never live it down.

The biting sting of fresh welds and self-repair nanites encompassed his entire frame. He couldn’t...actually feel his wings. Panic burst through him as all his systems started up and he tried to lurch into a sitting position. But something was holding him down, taking advantage of his temporary enfeeblement and stopping him firmly from thrashing around. He cast his optics about the dim room wildly, gasping for air, and then stopped short when he finally, finally focused.

Soundwave’s visor was flickering strangely, the red glow brightening and dimming in pulses. It was his hands planted across Starscream’s chassis, persistently pushing him to lie flat. But it wasn’t that which was muddling Starscream’s comprehension unit, it was the fact that...

“Where’s your mask?” he demanded, and winced immediately at the feeling of his intake scraped raw, his own voice almost unrecognizable in its pained rasp. He switched to internal comms, agitation still thrumming in his lines. :: What are you doing here? :: and _then_ he remembered the terror of missing sensation and tried to twist around to see his wings. The fear was spiraling and his vents were quickening before he could stop himself.

:: Starscream: is whole. :: came the quiet but forceful statement. :: Wings: damaged but repaired. Numbing agent: applied for optimal healing. ::

He grasped at Soundwave’s arm as he sank back onto the medberth, channeling all the doubt and suspicion he had at his disposal into his glare. :: Are you certain? :: But he was getting rapidly distracted by the fact that if he concentrated, he _could_ distantly feel the sore but comforting seams where his wings hinged to his back, and also - this was the first time he had ever seen Soundwave without his mask. Soundwave shifted, obviously aware of Starscream’s intense scrutiny, but made no move to hide his face.

The mech’s faceplates were the same pale ivory as his arms and thighs, glossy and smooth as a mirror and- was that a drop of energon on his bottom lip? Soundwave chose that moment to dart a silver glossa out, licking up the stray fuel. In the completely scandalous wave of heat that bloomed in his core, Starscream almost missed that the third-in-command was still talking. 

:: Soundwave: should have extrapolated negative reaction to numbing agent. Starscream: required restraining before further injury incurred. :: There was a pause. :: Continued fueling and replacement of mask...assigned secondary priority. ::

Starscream dropped his gaze in searching disbelief. Belatedly, he took in the upended cube on the ground, the two empty cubes beside it. The chair that had been pulled up right beside the berth, and the face-mask carefully placed on the low table. And then there was the recharging cat and the heap of two unconscious minibots in the shadow of the door. If his internal chronometer was to be trusted at all...

:: You’ve been...staying here? :: Starscream tried for insulted, but it came out rather faint. :: Why? ::

Soundwave smiled beatifically.

:: Soundwave: called a ‘fragging stubborn tape deck’. ::

:: What?! :: it was not a squeak, and Starscream was not _confused_ , slag it. :: What does that have to do with anythi- ::

:: Soundwave: also called an ‘aft’. ::

When had Soundwave gotten so close? Starscream narrowed his optics, tilting his chin up challengingly because he had no idea what was possessing the normally-stoic mech to- to invade his space and look so smug and lean in, and-

:: Starscream: said Soundwave was beautiful. :: 

Oh, no. No, no, no. He had most certainly not said anything of that sort, and his undignified splutter must have conveyed this quite thoroughly. 

A cool mouth pressed on Starscream’s brow. This close, he could smell the metallic sweetness of Soundwave’s armor, feel the heat of his frame wrapping around him and the warmth of a hand as it came up to softly cradle his cheek.

:: Soundwave: thinks Starscream is ‘stupid, beautiful’ too. ::


End file.
